


strawberry lips (give me a kiss)

by sunstruck (sesunmi)



Series: marching band girls [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Bittersweet Ending, Childhood Friends, F/F, Fem!NCT, Friends to Lovers, Marching Band, Slice of Life, just a little spicy :3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26242966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sesunmi/pseuds/sunstruck
Summary: Mark’s got a lap full of Donghyuck Lee and near forgotten memories.And Donghyuck? Donghyuck’s drunk on power and laughter and the way Mark’s face is flushed red, red, red.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: marching band girls [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904404
Comments: 10
Kudos: 60





	strawberry lips (give me a kiss)

**Author's Note:**

> 🍓🍓

Lukewarm water from your half-gallon jug, chocolate bars melted under the sun. Nearing the end of rehearsal, they do a full run.

Donghyuck’s flag hits someone and rattles onto the ground. They let out a litany of curses.

When she watches the runthrough video that night, curse words emanating through the shitty phone speakers, she sighs and sets her phone down. Whoever that is is due an apology.

===

Be quiet in class, participate in prayer, don't speak English, Korean only. Mark dedicates herself to these rules with enthusiasm that Donghyuck just _doesn't understand_. Why would you be a stickler like that?

The teachers adore Mark.

Mark is like white clay, malleable and willing. She goes to church every Sunday and recites bible verses, talks about modesty and being the best person she can be with this sweetness that leaves Donghyuck feeling irritated and inadequate. Good posture, polished shoes, good manners.

If a boy were to call Donghyuck stupid, she'd step on his feet. Screw the decorum. She's already got dirty skin and bruised knees from tumbling and running and she slouches. And she has a reputation for being mean— if she tries being nice, the adults will look at her strange.

So whenever Mark talks to her— trying to help, probably, (why?) it leaves a sour taste in Donghyuck's mouth. Mark wouldn't get it.

  
  


"Why do you sit like that?"

"Huh?"

"Girls don't sit like that."

A pause. "Well, I do." It comes out more cross than she'd like. Donghyuck's mouth feels a bit dry.

Mark blinks and averts her eyes to the table. Her hands are folded together in her lap, legs straight and covered with her pastel blue skirt.

Donghyuck's got on a ratty tee and neon green polka-dotted shorts. Her legs are splayed out.

"You don't sit like a girl," Mark says.

"I'm still a girl." She leans further back into her chair and sits wider out of spite.

===

It turns out that the person she hit on the head was Mark Lee.

Mark Lee shrugs it off in good humor, and it makes Donghyuck feel inadequate. But they're not competing in any capacity— why does she feel this way?

Suddenly the Hershey Kisses in her hand aren't enough to compensate.

So she types her contact into Mark's phone.

Donghyuck catches Mark staring. Not at her face, but at her in general. Eyes kind of blank and spacey, and it's strange and new and unseen territory. It's kind of cute. "Eyes up here, perv."

Mark has the gall to call her cute as a dopey smile slides across her face. And Mark giggles, pure and light. Donghyuck lets herself go and joins her.

===

Donghyuck does ballet, and Mark is still more flexible than she is. She can do the splits standing up. Mark makes her heart spit jealousy, and it's _horrible_ because Mark is, well. She hasn't done anything aside from be herself.

When Mark finds her behind the pomegranate grove, hands stained red and seeds in her mouth, Donghyuck knows Mark's loose tongue will rat her out. 

She doesn’t though. She squats down next to Donghyuck, takes the seeds from her hands, and pops them into her mouth. 

_What is it? A little treat before you get to ruin me?_

Donghyuck stares, unsettled, and smears Mark’s shirt with the juice residue on her fingers, and Mark’s face turns red, red, red. Red like strawberries. It’s such a good look on her.

Donghyuck runs, with Mark chasing after her, and thinks, _oh, what the hell,_ her heart pounding madly in her chest. _What the hell was that_?

===

Mark runs fast.

Donghyuck runs faster. She's good at giving chase, a terror at tag. She's quick on her feet and catches up quickly. This, she knows.

Donghyuck is fast; a sprinter and chaser where Mark endures. And during Saturday practice, under the afternoon sun, there’s a dedicated time where everyone runs. It's gone from 2 laps to 4, to 6, and now 8. That's two miles they've got to run as a whole band.

She really isn't built for this kind of torture.

Mark though? Mark has pipes. She plays a fucking sousaphone while marching around for ten minutes. Mark _has_ to have pipes. Pipes or die. Amazing lung capacity.

And in these moments it really shows. Mark shoves herself somewhere in the middle of the running block, innocuous enough. After the first few laps, people drop behind and she moves up, eventually hitting the first row of runners, right behind drum major Jungkook as he rhythmically wacks the cowbell.

Jungkook is half the reason why running block has gotten so hardcore— usually it's either a sprinter or an endurance-type lead runner, but he's _nastily athletic,_ and he drags everyone along.

Power to him and all, but he makes the rest of them run.

Donghyuck doesn't have that sort of endurance, so she lines up in front, and lap by lap, slowly moves down the line. She's content to do so, then Mark surges forward and is running in front of her.

Mark, the girl who ran away from Donghyuck in mary janes, from Donghyuck's sticky fingers while Donghyuck still thought crocs were acceptable footwear.

They're both wearing sneakers now, and they're on equal ground, and Mark is ahead. _Catch up_ , her mind whispers to her. And god, does she want it.

But she doesn't have that sort of energy, so she rides the coattails and acts as a tailwind. She stares at Mark's feet, right ahead, and matches her steps and breathing to Mark's, slowly and achingly. Her heart thuds so solidly and every inhale is painful. Her lungs are on fire and she's wheezing, and she's nipping at Mark's heels.

Each step taken is pain, pain, pain. She's got half a mind to not stumble over her own feet when Jungkook picks up the pace for the last stretch, and around the curb, she _surges forward_ and finds herself running side by side with Mark. Donghyuck's body screams at her, and she screams _fuck you, this is totally happening_ back.

The halt is a fucking disaster and a half, because Mark still beats her by half a step and she can hardly keep herself upright as they stop running.

But it's still pretty cool. As soon as Jungkook lets them go, Mark whips around and says "Donghyuck, what even. How the fuck—"

"Easy peasy," Donghyuck shrugs, flashing a peace sign. Her knees tremble like jelly as she jogs back to join those still running, and she feels so fucking cool.

That look on Mark's face.

===

Donghyuck is five when she meets Mark.

Mark has knobbly knees, a dorky grin, and a mole on her cheek. Her favorite color is blue. She wears flowery knee-length skirts and mary janes and she can run in them too.

Donghyuck can run faster than her, but it’s a close case. 

  
  


Mark's kind of easy. Easy to rile up, easy to impress, easy to fluster.

When they were kids, she'd just have to act nice and Mark would look at her, all suspicious, but red in the face and ears. She'd whine and Mark would get so _annoyed_ , so she'd keep poking at it until Mark would hiss at her and make her cackle. Mark's like a kitten, and it's unbearably cute.

Being with Mark is easy. Mark's presence is serene and distracting all at once, because Donghyuck's mind lulls to focus on Mark and only Mark. Mark and how her hands curl and clutch at her sleeves, how a shy smile spreads across her face when she sees Donghyuck.

When Donghyuck was ten, she'd cling by Mark for scraps of attention and annoyance. And she's here now, Mark sitting next to her on the bus, Donghyuck's left airpod in her ear, listening to Folklore. Her head sways a little and she joins Donghyuck in humming along. 

The bus engine thrums beneath her feet and there's Taylor Swift's smooth voice in her ear and Mark's left hand resting on her thigh, and Donghyuck's heart thuds _hard_. It doesn't run like a jackrabbit, but it thrums along slowly and heavily, every pulse like a long, resonant low note that makes her body shake.

===

Guard members manage their equipment. They have flags, rifles, sabers that they toss around with muscle memory formed from pain and many, many misdrops. Their equipment is durable.

Music instruments are a completely different case. They're brassy, bright, and if you dent them you could potentially fuck it up forever. That's why the band people are so careful with their instruments. They're passed down from generation to generation with this sort of irreverence that's not there for the flags that Donghyuck takes home.

After the show, guard cleans up after itself quite quickly. Sort out equipment, put them in the flagbags and load them all the bus; nice, simple, easy. It leaves her with ample free time for everything, and as per recommendation of her section leader, she heads to the tents to change out of her uniform.

Guard is kind of infamous, with a reputation for shamelessness. It's definitely deserved: last week, when they practiced in uniform, they changed on the field to zip on their uniforms because they were rushed on time. The drum major reminds the whole band to change in the tents because guard's gotten them docked points before.

Thing is, she's in the changing tent out in only her underwear when Mark asks her if she'd like to go out with her.

"For pho," Mark amends, eyes sparkling, confident, like she knows she'll be receiving a yes in return.

Mark is absolutely right. Donghyuck can’t say no.

  
  


Turns out that Mark meant to bring her along to her little sousa sectional. And maybe it should bother her that Mark didn’t want to go with her alone, but Mark intertwines their hands as they walk from the parking lot to the pho restaurant and Donghyuck feels warm and content.

She squeezes Mark’s hand as hard as she can. _Mine_.

Mark squeezes back.

  
  


It doesn’t go as awkward as she expects it to be; Donghyuck takes delight in teasing Mark, and so do the sousas. Donghyuck has all sorts of stories and things to share, and so do they. They get along well. 

Donghyuck snakes her hand around Mark’s waist and calls her “my wifey” as Mark ladels broth into her bowl. The sousas laugh and Mark tells her to shut up, and Donghyuck obeys, hand reaching out to grab Mark’s milk tea and taking a long sip, snorting when she sees Mark close her eyes and inhale slowly.

“I can hear you muttering patience like a mantra, Mark,” says Yeri. Jaehyun looks on, amused. 

Donghyuck decides that she quite likes the sousaphones.

They like her too. Good to hear that the extended family of her marching band spouse like her.

===

This aftershow the sousaphones go to Jake’s pizzeria to flush the adrenaline. Jaehyun has a car and offers to drive them because he’s cool, but they’re a bit short on room since he’s bringing along Sicheng, a student from Weishen that he hit it off with, alongside the usual passengers of Mark, Yeri, Donghyuck, and Heejin.

Donghyuck sits in Mark’s lap. Problem solved. It’s as simple as that.

Needless to say, by the time they get to Jake’s, Donghyuck is drunk on power and Mark’s face is a bright, beautiful red that’s visible even in the dark.

"At Sunflower, there was this elevated wooden lodge in the corner of the schoolyard. It got taken down when I was seven."

"Oh, I think I remember," Mark says, eyebrows furrowed and in thought. She's pouting a little. "The teachers told us that they found high schoolers there, sleeping overnight. Now that I think about it though, they probably smoked used that as a place to get high as well."

With each consecutive word that comes out of Mark's mouth, Donghyuck's eyebrows inch closer and closer to her hairline. She turns her whole body to stare at Mark, mouth agape.

Someone laughs at her. It's the pit kid with a bowl cut wearing a Weishen pit crew hoodie. When they meet eyes, he waves. _Milo_ is embroidered on the chest.

Much to her horror, they shuffle over and squeeze onto the table because Sicheng apparently knows these people and can't get away from them. That's how their little adventurous group of 8 turns to 12.

Milo introduces himself as Yangyang, a sneakerhead who listens to Rap Caviar and watches NBA games. They trade instagrams, and Donghyuck thinks Yangyang might be flirting with her. Maybe.

Mark pinches her waist, and when Donghyuck looks back to whine, she pops a piece of chicken into Donghyuck's mouth. She nearly chokes on it, but doesn't, courtesy of Mark Lee. Mark Lee, who force fed her the chicken chunk in the first place, is thanked with a glare. "You're dead to me," Donghyuck mutters, and absolutely does _not_ focus on how Mark's hand rests on her thigh.

===

The grass under her legs is scratchy and dry. The big crack in the dirt still runs right through the makeshift basketball court, and the breeze still blows dust her way. If she closes her eyes, she can imagine her ten year old self standing atop the dirt mound, Mark’s hand in her own.

The last time they were here together, it was during the summer. Donghyuck caught ladybugs and made Mark pick white clover leaves with her, hoping to find one with four leaves. She chased Mark around the trees for memories sake and left with letters written to each other folded into paper planes. Mark had tucked her graduation carnation into Donghyuck's hair.

Then Mark disappeared out of her life for years.

"Love you," Donghyuck mumbles into Mark's neck.

"Yeah," Mark says. "I'll do this with you next year too." Her eyes are twinkly and so, so bright.

Donghyuck's lost countless hours to marching band. She thinks she finds that lost time in her fellow masochists and _Mark_ , who's holding Donghyuck's hand over her heart.

That time is running out though: Mark's a senior, and this is her last marching season. She's lying— they don't get another year. So Donghyuck shoves her aside and sends Mark rolling in the dirt as her eyes blur with tears and her heart clenches.

"Donghyuck, what the fuck," she hears Mark sputter.

"What the fuck," Donghyuck echoes, turning away to glare at the grass, clenching her hands. Her fingernails dig into her palms and the pain from that doesn’t even register because the thought of Mark leaving again hurts so much more.

"Hey..." Mark says, voice gentle, as she sits down besides Donghyuck. Her hands reach out but return to her sides once she sees how Donghyuck coils away. "I meant that I'd do winterguard, if they'd have me."

"Mark, what the fuck." Her voice cracks, and her chest heaves with heavy sobs as her tears flow freely.

"Fuck, Donghyuck, I'm sorry."

"If there were a pool, I'd shove you into it right now. Fuck, just. Let me cry for a bit."

They lay there for a long while as Donghyuck steadies her breath and the tear tracks slowly dry.

"If you ghost me again, I'll murder you." Donghyuck's voice cracks while saying this. She resolutely stares at the sky.

"I'd never." Mark says back, quiet. "Never." Her voice doesn't waver.

"Okay." Donghyuck closes her eyes and breathes slowly. _In, out._ "Now go see the pomegranate grove with me. There won't be any fruit because it's winter right now, but let’s go see it anyway.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/sesunmii) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/sesunmi)
> 
> say hiiiii ^___^


End file.
